The Nightmare At John Hay
by Revanite0428
Summary: A story set within H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos universe. It follows a team of researchers as they discover an unearthly form of vegetation in a mountain in the Philippines.


I

Humans are beings of pleasure. We have always believed that our species is the pinnacle of evolution on Earth, and have instilled upon our feeble minds the notion that we were created by a benevolent higher power for a special purpose in the grand scheme of creation. This has led to us acquiring a sense of entitlement to all the things our planet has to offer, ultimately leading to a society marred by hedonism and corruption. In reality, though, we are indeed nothing but insignificant specs in the grand scheme of an apathetic universe, wholly ignorant of the endless incomprehensible horror of the cosmic unknown.

All of this, Julian Dela Cruz thought about. For a twenty-year-old boy, he had quite a prodigious imagination, as well as a good sense of cosmicism. And for a boy who grew up in a strictly Christian family, he was quite the skeptic, which was no easy feat considering the nature of his upbringing. All of this affinity towards the physical and the logical led to his becoming a student of biology at the Baguio campus of the University of the Philippines. For almost four academic years he had worked painstakingly in order to finish his degree, so that he may finally be free from the shackles that have bound him to the archaic and conservative ways of his heritage. In order to achieve the aforementioned task, he will need to finish his research work on a new species of fern that he and his research mates have so recently discovered in the forests of Camp John Hay.

The first part of the experimental phase of their research work was relatively simple - that is, to survey the site of discovery in order to gather the necessary information on the fern, such as its relative abundance in its ecosystem, and the ecological niche it occupies in the said environment. In this undertaking they would cooperate with Dr. Georgia Wilkins, a foreign botanist who had spent much of her time in John Hay studying the diverse vegetation, and who had familiarized herself with the ways of the locals, the Ibalois, becoming immersed in their culture in the process. All of these skills and capabilities make her the perfect associate in this research project.

The said survey was to take place on the second of March, which was a Saturday. When the day finally came, Julian woke up at half-past five to a very cold and quiet morning. He then vigorously started packing up his provisions, as well as two of his favorite novels. He was an avid reader of science fiction and dark fantasy, and would rather read betwixt the idle hours of their fieldwork than talk and exchange stories with his thesis mates. This is a character that has given the boy a sense of peculiarity in the eyes of most people, including his said colleagues. Nevertheless, he met with them at the university, and along with their research advisor Professor Rabago, rode a considerably small van towards their destination.

Julian has never truly had a huge roster of friends in his college life, mostly because of his view that relationships are ultimately ephemeral. From his point of view, it is far more important to pursue truth and knowledge than to waste one's years seeking comfort in things that will only hinder the potential of what one can accomplish in their lifetime. This pessimistic view of life he acquired from the constant bullying he received from his classmates when he was much younger. He was much too intelligent and far too mentally removed from reality than what was deemed normal for his class, and as such was met with regular insults even from people whom he originally considered to be his friends. It was then that Julian knew that humans are no better than the animals they have chosen to distinguish themselves from. And it was then that Julian knew that human society will always spurn and fear those individuals whom it fails to comprehend.

Despite these views, Julian has actually taken a liking on his thesis mates, though rarely, if ever, does he truly let the fact manifest. Rarely, if ever, does he show that he appreciates the presence of Leonard Garcia and Elesa Zafina Santiago. Unlike most people, these two do not spurn him; and oftentimes they even welcome his queer mannerisms, an act which temporarily suppresses his feeling of loneliness. Elesa, in particular, he held a very special fondness for. The fact that she was a very kind individual has many times urged Julian to admit to her how much he liked her. However, experience has taught the young man that people are not what they seem on the surface, and that she will most likely learn to shun him the moment she truly gets to know all of his flaws and hidden oddities. And if by some chance they do end up being together, it will only be a matter of time before some other man of far more pleasing physical characteristics would take her from him, and she would gladly follow, for humans are indeed just foul animals who are always on the quest for pleasure.

Soon after, their van halted, and it was apparent that the group had reached their destination. At once, Julian ceased his introspection and stepped out to meet Dr. Wilkins. After some brief introductions and formalities, the team took out their research equipment from the van and began making preparations for the collection and sampling process.

Camp John Hay covers a vast area of the mountain that it resides on, spanning several hectares of land where buildings, roads, and other such infrastructures are built upon. What was once a military reservation for the American soldiers of the second world war has now been fully transformed into a functioning community for tourism. Scarcely any traces of the old world era can be made out from the current state of the camp, and if one did not know better, the entire place could easily pass for something that was constructed a mere two or three decennia ago. Restaurants and souvenir shops now surrounded the average tourists, and since it was a Saturday, there was indeed a considerable number of them. Whether they were natives of the Benguet province or not, most of them nonetheless looked awestruck at the mere sight of the wide variety of shops that sold exclusive merchandise of the province, as well as the exquisite scenery of John Hay in general. A significant percentage of the tourists were families, and they mostly took photos of each other at various sites of interest around the campus. Of the most prominent were the Bell house and amphitheatre, the former of which served as the residence of a highly-regarded General from the war.

And yet, the camp did not disappoint to those who preferred nature over the monotonously concrete environment of the outer campus, as there was a bountiful supply of activities that could be performed, from simply hiking down an infamous steep slope known as the Yellow Trail, to attaining a top-down perspective of the vast expanse of the forest while being harnessed to a cable hundreds of meters from the ground. However, there were far less people who would commit to the aforementioned exercises. Most would rather jaunt around the more populated areas to enjoy pleasurable delicacies of exorbitant prices, or buy trivial trinkets they would take home to show off to their loved ones and friends, all without ever taking into account the symbolisms behind their purchases. Julian watched with utter disdain as some of the younger tourists laughed at passing natives who were clad in indigenous garments.

While Dr. Wilkins and Professor Rabago were exchanging notes regarding the nature of their study, Julian decided to have a light breakfast at a cafeteria nearby. He had planned on asking his two research mates to join him, but his social anxiety took hold of him and ultimately made him go on his own. The cafeteria was quite small and dark inside. He chose a seat not far from the door and ordered chicken soup with toasted bread. While waiting for his meal, he saw a rather unsettling sight at the far end of the room. There was a man of a peculiar yet horrifying cast who was looking straight back at him. The stranger was wearing a black hooded jacket, with the hood covering up a significant upper portion of his face. As if melding with the darkness that enveloped the cafeteria, the shadow of the stranger's hood, as well as the face mask he was wearing, made certain that only his eyes could be seen from where Julian was seated. The eyes were malevolently big and were surrounded by patches of green skin which were visible enough from afar if one squinted hard enough. Julian had planned on leaving at once, when all of a sudden, he was joined by Elesa and Leonard, who relieved the tension that was tightening its grip over the poor boy. Afterward, breakfast went along smoothly for the three of them. After they had finished all of their respective meals, Julian glanced once again at the curious stranger at the reciprocal end, and much to his dreadful surprise, the man was still looking at him. Julian surmised that the hideous man's eyes may not have blinked at all since their stare off roughly half an hour ago. He then asked the waitress if his apparent stalker was a well-known customer of their eatery, but she told him that neither she nor her fellow receptionists have ever beheld such a man before, much to the boy's chagrin. Keeping the details of the encounter with himself, he followed his colleagues out of the cafeteria and reunited with Dr. Wilkins and Professor Rabago near the entrance to the forest. Getting the revolting sight of the stranger out of his mind by dismissing it as a purely random encounter with a mentally unstable person, and focusing solely on his research, he joined his team as they plunged into a desolate region of prehistoric diversity and splendor.

Towering pine trees stood at just about every direction that Julian looked, and their heights were indeed breathtaking. Occasionally the team would run into a fallen tree trunk, and each time the trunk would be covered with an assortment of fungi and mosses. Curiously, Julian caught sight of strange paintings or markings on the largest trunk they encountered, regarding figures and symbols he could not understand. They must have undoubtedly been the work of the indigenous folk that prowled these parts. Twice they crossed brooks that ran indefinitely into certain crags and crevices that led even deeper into the mountain. Onward they flowed, towards certain unlit regions wholly unsullied by human hands, eliciting the insightful young man's imagination to wonder what shrouded secrets the ancient mountain might have had buried within its abyssal terrains. The silence that permeated the very forest made for an altogether calming atmosphere.

II

The tasks for the day went as planned, with Julian's group traveling into the heart of the forest, and finding within it the highest concentration of the hitherto unknown fern species. Although Camp John Hay is famous as a tourist spot in Baguio City, there are still certain regions in it that have remained relatively unexplored and untouched. This is mostly due to the fact that John Hay is located at the top of a hill, with its landscape characterized by slopes of varying steepness to be found here and there. These archaic landscapes act as conduits towards understanding the past of this corner of the world, showing forth phenomenal vistas that tell the story of the natural primordial ecosystem that once dominated these mountains. Not even the lofty aspirations of humanity's industrialization have been enough to fully disrupt the original structure of the mountain and its forest.

Of the characteristics of the fern, there is hardly any distinguishing characteristic that sets it apart from the rest of its kind, save for one. It is also this very same characteristic that has puzzled the group of Julian, as well as Dr. Wilkins. That unique character being that this particular fern appears to possess flowers, which has never been seen on any other fern species before. This is because ferns are a group of plants that predate angiosperms, and instead reproduce through the use of specialized spores. These flowers are extremely small, and can be found on the nodes of the fern, and are of a pallid blue coloration. Why no one had discovered this species prior to Julian's group is another puzzling matter altogether - for as of the moment, the species was quite abundant in the deeper parts of the forest. Dr. Wilkins postulates that these ferns may be an invasive species, introduced to the region by hitherto unknown means. All of these aforementioned facts have further fueled the desire of the group to push through with their research, for it has the potential of turning into a discovery of vast scientific implications.

After securing a permit from the authorities, the group was able to collect specimens to be brought back to the laboratory at the university for further analysis. They also took several photographs of the surrounding vegetation, as well as the forest floor. Finally, they made several measurements in the region pertinent to their research data. All of the work was completed without the need for much small talk, Julian thought. However, just as he and his team have finished organizing their collected specimens and equipment, and were already preparing to leave John Hay, a heavy rain suddenly fell, despite the weather forecasts declaring that the week would be without such. As landslides are a common occurrence during rainy weather in Baguio City, the group opted to remain in the site for a while in order to wait out the tempest.

Julian suggested that they take shelter inside the cafeteria where he and his mates had eaten earlier since it was the nearest option based on their current coordinates. This suggestion was followed suit by his contemporaries. They went inside the lounge and ordered some hot coffee. To Julian's elation, the queer unstable man from before had apparently gone.

More than an hour passed, yet still, the storm poured on. Fortunately, an elderly local who was a close friend of Dr. Wilkins chanced upon them. Her name was Lucban, and was more than eager to let the group stay at her nearby abode for as long as was needed. At once, Professor Rabago fired up the van and, with Lucban's directions, drove towards a small, barely noticeable path adjacent to John Hay. This path led even deeper into the woods of the mountain, and after a few minutes, they came upon a small, wooden shack. Julian and his colleagues went inside at once and set down their bags and equipment on the floor. Inside the house, Julian noticed, was a curious musty odor that may have resulted from the mixture of the moisture from the surrounding vegetation, and the age of the wood that their shelter was constructed out of. The house was made up of two floors and looked much sturdier on the inside than on the outside. Almost everything in it was made up of wood, from the chairs and the tables to the ladder that went up to the second floor. Lucban apparently lived here all alone, with Dr. Wilkins explaining that her husband left her right before their first and only child was born. Only a few years after, her child allegedly died of a mysterious disease.

When everyone had settled down, Lucban offered each of her guests a cup of tea that she personally brewed. She also offered them a meal, but Julian politely told her that he did not need sustenance as of the moment. While everyone was enjoying their fair share in the banquet, Julian took the time to observe his surroundings. Lucban's house, he realized with shrewd perception, was located in arguably one of the deepest possible recesses of the forest that man has been able to occupy in this region of the Earth. It was surrounded by huge coniferous trees, and the darkness that resulted from the cloud-covered sky, as well as the relative desolation and silence of their abode, gave Julian a vague and inexplicable sense of terror. Although supernatural stories were common in the Philippines, let alone in Baguio, they were not the cause of this most recent sensation, as he did not believe in such stories anyway. Oddly enough, the eerie scenery somehow seemed to have reminded him of certain dark and grotesque places that he had only read about in his books, especially those described in the _Necronomicon_, an ancient book written by the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred. Julian did not have an unexpurgated copy of the aforementioned tome, as it was perhaps virtually impossible to obtain one in modern times. Among the last known copies is the one at Miskatonic University located in Arkham, Massachusetts, which was half a world away from where he was. However, Julian does have several books that allegedly contain excerpts from the Necronomicon, and it was there that he learned of the many supposed forbidden truths of the cosmos. Of these were the dreaded Pnakotic Manuscripts, which contained obscene knowledge that would drive any functioning individual to the brink of insanity; the many elder races that existed in the universe eons before our solar system even materialized; the coming of the Great Old Ones to Earth, who once ruled the planet as gods while being worshipped by lesser beings; the war of great Cthulhu and his star spawn with a race of advanced star-footed beings; and even the quest of the crawling chaos Nyarlathotep, in a mission to forever torment humankind and ultimately bring about the return of the Old Ones.

All these images flashed vividly in the mind of Julian, who was now staring blankly into the vast darkness that engulfed them. "For God's sake, what a creative yet repulsive imagination I must have to even remotely be able to visualize such bizarre suggestions", he thought to himself as he joined his team in partaking in their dinner.

The latter part of the evening was seen as the perfect time to analyze and interpret the data that they have gathered. Each member of the team, having done extensive research on ferns, as well as on invasive species, was equally confounded with what they were working on. Not a single one of them could even begin to conjecture how such a fern evolved to possess inflorescences. According to Lucban, some of the natives have also taken a liking on the plants, and a few of them have already begun selling the plants to tourists as souvenirs. After arriving at the conclusion that they could do no more work that night, Dr. Wilkins and Professor Rabago urged the three students to retire for the day.

Julian and Leonard were given the bed on the second floor of the house to sleep on, while Elesa, Wilkins, and Rabago decided to sleep on the first floor, wherein they would make use of the handwoven mats of Lucban. Heavy raindrops from the unrelenting tempest outside made noises every time they would make contact with the roof, and Julian thought that he and his team had been very lucky that Lucban had been present in their time of need to offer them some shelter. Feeling staggeringly tired and weak from all the work they had accomplished, Julian quickly dozed off into the night.

III

What time it was, Julian dared not conjecture. All he knew was that he was awoken by a strange pungent odor from outside. Despite having been prematurely roused from his otherwise deep slumber, he nevertheless got up on his feet and walked in a swerving manner towards the curtains. Perhaps it was curiosity that drove him to do such a thing, although perhaps said curiosity might have been tainted with foolishness and stupidity. Upon reaching the curtains, he quickly set them aside and decided to look outward into the sheer blackness that was in front of him. The curious scent was now stronger, and he realized that it was arguably the most pleasing fragrance he had ever chanced upon. It was unlike the smell of any perfume, nor did the smell of the most aromatic flowers in the world give it any competition. This was saying much, considering Julian had traveled to different countries with his parents, with his mother having a business of selling rare and exotic flowers from their travels. The unique odor was so intensely satisfying to the point that it becomes all too unnatural for Julian's liking.

It was because of this heightened sense of pleasure that made Julian initially oblivious to another detail in his surroundings. The rain had quieted down now, and where there was once the blasphemous cacophony of a devilish storm, there was now utter silence. And it was this silence that eventually made Julian finally notice a disturbing growl, made by something from the undergrowth some distance below. At first, he did not make much of it but was forced to do so when he heard that the low growling was accompanied by heavy footsteps. He also made note of the fact that the fragrant smell was much stronger now than it had been before he noticed the growl. Julian could not think of any species of animal that could possibly make such noises, since the largest non-botanical specimens that could be found in this section of the world are most likely birds. For a few minutes, Julian's heart rate increased, and he noticed that he had also begun sweating profusely whilst the ethereal auditory impressions went on. As unbelievable as it sounded, whatever was making the noises seemed to be circling the perimeter of Lucban's house.

The observer strained his eyesight to the fullest in hopes of glimpsing the forest floor and what lurked on it. Before long, the shadowy contours of the moist leaf-littered soil, as well as the imposing conifers that encircled the cabin, appeared within his field of view. Though nothing atypical could be singled out from the environment at first, the boy soon trembled as he was able to distinguish the rustling of a group of bushes at the far end of the spectrum.

Finally, both the growls and the footsteps stopped. The heavy scent had also gone. As if having been woken up from a magician's spell, the young man quickly backed off the window and sat on his bed, his heart still pounding heavily. He rubbed his eyes to make sure that he was fully cognizant of the present. Once again, he looked out the wooden aperture, as if purposely incredulous of the fact that he may have just stumbled upon one of the secrets of this decrepit land of forgotten mystery.

Julian conscientiously surveyed the bordering scenery to confirm that he and his fellow occupants in the house were once again all alone beneath the twilight. He took notice of the same spot where he once caught a movement in the leaves, and found that the path beyond it transcended the line of sight into the thicker regions of the montane forest. The boy wavered at the possibility of the existence of unknown forms of life that may exist in those vast, uncharted terrains of utter loneliness.

Was all of that merely a result of his weariness and sleepiness? Had the terrifying nature of their abode taken its toll on his overly creative mind, which in turn made his mind fancy wild things that only exist in fantasy? He looked at Leonard, only to find that his colleague was still deep in slumber, apparently oblivious to everything that Julian had just witnessed.

Once again, the young man lied down and attempted to get some much-needed rest. However, he found that he could no longer put aside his thoughts on all of the recent events that he had witnessed since coming to Camp John Hay. First, there was his encounter with the repulsive stranger at the lounge, then there was the sudden onslaught of the tempest that indicated weather which was opposite of what was expected. Finally, there were those otherworldly sounds of macabre suggestions that could not have come from a human being, nor from any animal that Julian knew about.

Still, he was not one to believe that such events could be intertwined with each other, nor did he accept that these three events were portentous in nature. "I am a man of science. All the miserable incidents that have taken place up to this moment have all been mere coincidences. Whatever terror my mind has been fancying has simply stemmed from the fact that I read too much fiction", he murmured to himself as closed his eyes, knowing all too well that he would not be able to sleep anymore. To his relief, no further disturbances plagued him for the rest of the dark hours.

The next morning was met with relatively favorable circumstances, which for a time eased the spirits of the research party. No further rains occurred, and the team enjoyed a soup prepared by Lucban. After everyone had sustained themselves, Rabago and Julian decided to return to the John Hay area to discern whether the erratic storm had brought about certain impediments to their path home. To their disappointment, they found that their deduction had been on point, as heaps of dislodged cyclopean boulders barred all known roads back to Baguio City. This inconvenience extended to the tourists of John Hay, prompting its managers to immediately phone for the proper authorities regarding road management. The said authorities then responded by regretfully announcing that they will not be able to respond immediately to the concerns of the former, since the heavy rain also appeared to have inflicted much damage to the central Baguio City and its vicinity, leading to the further despondency of the once hopeful tourists.

The pitiful development forced the research team to reluctantly delay their coming home, and determined that the most prudent course of action at the moment was to check in at a prodigious hotel at John Hay using the remaining funds of Rabago and Wilkins. This they did without delay, thanking Lucban and paying her a meager fee for her services. While the rest of his team was packing up their research equipment, Julian decided to furtively speak with Lucban regarding his encounters the previous night, a story which he has not shared with any of his associates. Initially, he asked her whether she knew of the fragrances of ecstatic nature plaguing her abode. He was mildly surprised when Lucban seemed to shudder at his question. After a few seconds of silence, the old lady replied that she remembered smelling something akin to what Julian described when her only child was stricken with the mysterious ailment some thirty years ago. The unfortunate little boy, who was only five years old when he passed away, emitted the very same odor, which became increasingly prominent every single day up until the time of his premature death. That was, she recounted, the last time she ever beheld the enigmatic aroma. Julian then realized that Lucban had started to sob while she recounted the tragic tale, and he quickly rushed in to comfort her by expressing his sincere condolences, an act which proved quite effective.

When it became clear that his host was once again ready for a subtle interrogation, Julian pushed through by telling her this time of the unseen wild animal that accompanied the scent, following up the story with a question as to whether she knew of any potential matching fauna in the area. Her reaction to the current question was roughly the same as her reaction to the first one, albeit to a lesser degree. After a few seconds, she sternly affirmed that she did not. As he was about to ask her another question, she immediately told her guest that she had some other place to be. Realizing that Julian had exhausted all means of getting reliable answers from the distressed woman, he stepped out of the house and followed his team into their van. Before he left the house, Lucban firmly grabbed him by his left hand and whispered caution to him, advising him to look no further at the events which unfolded before him ere break of dawn, for the consequences of gaining such knowledge would be disastrous at best. Somehow, the precipitous roughness of her voice gave off nebulous impressions of malevolence, which sent shivers down Julian's spine. He quickly wrestled his arm from her and joined his team in Rabago's automobile. The more the distance between the van and the old wooden house grew, the more he became relieved.

IV

The rest of Sunday became increasingly hectic, as masses of frustrated and stranded tourists tried to cope up with their plight as best they could. Restaurants, fast food chains, convenience stores, and cafeterias opened beyond their usual closing hours. Some people would leave and be replaced by new arrivals, while others chose not to leave at all for the fact that they did not have money to pay for transient. Little did any mortal soul in Camp John Hay know that all of the events that have led to the current ensuing chaos in the once pleasant tourist spot are but a prelude to a terror beyond anything they will ever know.

An hour after midnight, the myriad of people awake had drastically decreased. It was at this time that the extremely loud, blood-curdling scream was heard, one powerful enough to rouse even the most profound dreamer. No one knew who did it, nor will anyone ever know in the future, long after the culmination of the terrifying events at Camp John Hay had fully unfolded. Julian and his team, along with most of the occupants of the hotel they resided in, went outside to see what the commotion was all about.

At once, the entire neighborhood was again in a state of utmost panic. The transients at the other hotels also demanded information from the policemen and security guards. The aforementioned authorities were in deep conversation with each other, apparently trying to locate the source of the scream. Because of the tense nature of the situation, along with the rapidly building turmoil that is being generated by the crowd, only the most astute observers can make out certain facts regarding the cause of the commotion. According to the guards, the wail had come from a man, and judging by its volume, must have originated from the borders of the forest. Unfortunately, the search party that was sent to find the culprit yielded no results. Of particular interest was the statement of one extremely terrified guard, who claimed to have spotted a rather nasty humanoid figure running towards the deeper part of the forest. The rest of the search party could not, or would not, back his claim, leading to the immediate dismissal of his story as a result of his weariness and sleepiness. The infinitely deafening prattle all around also made certain that the fanciful account of the guard went unheard by the surrounding folk, save for Julian.

One preternatural incident was immediately followed by another. The morning of Monday was met with reports of various tourists of all ages being rushed to the John Hay medical clinic due to an extreme fever. Elesa, Leonard, as well as professors Rabago and Wilkins, were among the hospitalized. The doctors, despite doing their best efforts to diagnose the disease, came up short in analyzing its cause, as none of the patients seemed to share any similarities that gave any clue as to how they had contracted it. To add insult to injury, more than half of the afflicted noted that they did not feel impending signs of any kind of fever mere hours before its onset.

Julian was left to ponder and make sense of everything that had happened up to this point. Though he was a boy who believed that everything could be explained by the natural laws of physics, chemistry, and biology, he was nevertheless confounded with the recent events that he has become a part of. Thoughts of primal and arcane lore once again flashed in his head. The frantic chain of events that have occurred since the storm have been no less than puzzling, and he could not help but think of a certain line in the accursed _Necronomicon_. It was once spoken by the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred when he dreamed of unearthly vistas a long time ago in a nameless city in the desert: "_That is dead which can eternal lie, and with strange eons, even death may die_". What if the storm had awakened an ancient terror of unfathomable proportions deep within the mountain that Camp John Hay was rested on top of? Did the hitherto seemingly fictional writings in the aforementioned cryptic book actually contain forbidden truths about the nature of reality, and of the cosmos?

Julian's introspection was cut short by the vibrations of his mobile phone in his pocket. It only now occurred to him that he had unknowingly been ignoring the digital messages and calls of his parents for the past two days. He quickly answered his mother's call and told her everything that had happened to him since leaving home. While he was initially met with an extremely furious scolding, the voice of his daunted mother soon calmed down, and Julian apologized to her for his oversight. Soon, a lot of facts were obtained from their conversation, all of them unpleasant.

In connection with limited information gleaned from the authorities at John Hay earlier, the central region of Baguio City had indeed taken the brunt of the tempest. Electricity, water, and provisions have been in an increasingly short supply since the storm struck, while the death toll was estimated to amount to at least four hundred. Landslides made traveling to or from the city difficult, and most roads were tentatively closed off as the Department of Public Works and Highways worked day in and day out to clear them of debris. Various riots against city officials have also erupted, most of which were conducted by people who had lost their homes. All schools in the city have also suspended classes for the rest of the week. On a more peculiar note, several news reports as well as anecdotes in the local radio have singularly told of what appears to be a certain cult that has risen to prominence in the midst of the societal disarray. According to the unfortunate few who have vaguely beheld them, members of the cult possessed extremely eccentric physical characteristics, including yellowish eyes and greenish skin, and were only known to roam the city at night. They also spoke in a seemingly unrecognizable language, and would either carve onto wood or paint onto surfaces certain arcane symbols. All of these acts have prompted zealots to speculate that the end of the world may well be nigh, and that these unearthly beings and the events correlated with them may be the judgment of the divine will upon the sins of man.

This massive inflow of knowledge left Julian bewildered beyond normal, leading him to merely stare at the wall of the hotel room for a few seconds while his mother strove to get him to respond.

V

It was afternoon when Julian returned to the hospital to check up on his colleagues. Though he was a rather antisocial person, he had nevertheless admittedly grown fond of them in the short span of time they had spent together. Perhaps his bitter view of the world had been the wrong one after all, and there may be people outside his kin that are worth caring for.

The John Hay medical clinic was full of rampant visitors that crowded every hallway and passageway, ensuring that navigation throughout the building will not be without certain difficulties. Children were crying, eating, or running along without adult supervision. All the while, medical staff were busy preparing meals and medicines for the patients. According to one of the doctors, the patients who were part of the mass infection have been isolated, and visitors were likewise prohibited in seeing any of them. Although several diagnostic tests and blood sample collections have been performed, the physicians were currently none the wiser since the admission of the afflicted. It had become apparent that more sophisticated medical equipment was needed to even shed a diminutive light on the virus, if indeed a virus it was. This equipment, unfortunately, cannot be found within the walls of John Hay's shoddy clinic, ultimately requiring that the patients be transferred to a more progressive hospital. And yet, five more people showing the similar initial symptoms of the enigmatic disease were checked in again that night. This was indubitably a sign that, should the roads to the main city turn out to not be operational by the next day, the prospects of the diseased may be grim at best.

Julian thought it best for him to take in some fresh air outside the hospital, so he stepped out of the entrance doors and began taking a leisurely stroll down the cemented road, past gables of various dimensions, and towering steeples that gave John Hay a somewhat calming atmosphere in spite of the recent bizarre developments that have taken place in it. Upon returning to his hotel room, he decided to carry on with the research project as best as he could without the aid of his teammates. He began setting up his laptop and unpacking the bags that contained botanical books and other pertinent reference materials, hoping against hope that he may at least find some tranquility if he could progress the study forward even by a meager amount.

For what appeared to hours, the desperate young man did extensive reading, cross-referencing, and proofreading of the extremely limited sources, whether reliable or questionable, that he could find. His determination had shown vestiges of willfulness, and in his current state of mind, was able to glean quite an amenable amount of knowledge, both digitally and physically.

One particularly sketchy source was a group of sparsely placed sentences in a manuscript that was apparently written by a foreign anthropologist named Ronald Weaver, who had a connection to Doctor Wilkins. Judging by the handwriting on the manuscript, as well as the singularly dated appearance of the paper, it must have been written decades ago. It was placed amidst a myriad of other manuscripts, journal and newspaper cuttings, and books in Wilkins' collection, and thus it was only with shrewd resolution that one could even hope to find the particular passage that tells vaguely of the fern. Unsurprisingly, the fern species had been spotted before in the other mountains of Benguet province. Despite this, no one from the scientific community had had the chance to classify it because of the limited number of specimens that could be found, let alone documented. However, the first recorded sighting, according to the manuscript, was in 1919, exactly a hundred years before Julian's team discovered it in the depths of John Hay.

While most of the passage talks about how Weaver interacted with the natives, a brief section tells of his interview with a highly respected elderly Ibaloi. The old man had recounted how his great-grandfather would take him deep underground in tunnels where no natural light shines, and show him a plethora of inconceivable wonders that could not be found on any known surface of the Earth. Of the details of most of these "wonders", the interviewee or the writer would not expound upon, save for one herbaceous plant. It was, beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt, the fern species that has eluded discovery from the world at large. The plant was apparently a fastidious species, as it would only appear and proliferate at a specific time every century. To Julian's disappointment, no further facts could be gained from the manuscript. It was past twelve midnight now, but the feisty lad would not sleep if he could, for solving the mystery of his research could also prove helpful in discerning any connection between the plant and the mysterious ailment that has plagued the campus.

His further research in the succeeding hours indeed proved to be quite fruitful, as he was able to procure two images of a decent quality from a very obscure website on the internet that archives several studies of the plant species that can be found in Benguet. The photo was taken in the year 1999, although without further context, Julian had no idea how the photographer had chanced upon such a specimen.

Finally, it was the last source that reinforced Julian's fear of the nature of the fern, and of the macabre events that have been unfolding for the past two days. Trying his luck on Wilkins' manuscripts that were written by the Ibaloi natives in mostly their own language, he inadvertently unlocked certain doorways to abyssal regions of knowledge that he later regretted in retrospect. It was not hard to explain why these passages slipped past the memory of Doctor Wilkins, for they all bore on the surface the narrative style of a folk tale. Julian could have equally dismissed them as such had they not told of events that vaguely paralleled the horrors that have manifested themselves in different ways in the once vibrant community of John Hay. Most intriguing of all was the fact that certain passages in the texts were not at all written in Ibaloi, but were instead recognized by Julian to be words in the Aklo language. Shuddering at this revelation, Julian recounted how the bulk of the _Necronomicon _was written in the same antediluvian language. Hardening his resolve, he read the manuscripts one by one until he was able to form a holistically unwholesome picture of the situation at John Hay.

Several stories have been passed from generation to generation among the natives as a part of their culture. However, some of them have been extensively shunned by most of the Ibaloi families for the terror that they implied. The unknown writer, or writers, of the manuscript, apparently knew of these forbidden stories and were inclined to share them. The central motif of the stories was nature and the major role that plants played in maintaining it. In ancient times, the Ibalois, along with other native groups in the Benguet province, would often manipulate the landscape of their homelands to suit their agricultural needs. Their fates were undeniably intertwined with those of the trees, shrubs, and herbs around them. One day, a curious group of children stumbled upon a queer-looking herb that emitted an unprecedented fragrance. Taking it back to the elders of their tribe, the plant was deemed as a gift from the heavens, sent forth by their radiant god. Its beauty and aroma were unparalleled, and for weeks after its discovery, various celebrations and festivities were conducted in honor of its perceived grandeur. In time, the irresistible essence of the notorious flowers in the herb morphed veneration into obsession. Human beings, being the shallow and fragile-minded beings that they were, instinctively sought out more of the unknown herb from deeper parts of the forest.

Believing that they could use the herbs as a way to communicate with the heavens, the natives started consuming the plants as a part of their daily rituals. They did this minutes before they would go to sleep, so that they may, in their dreams, find the gates of the eternal city and commune with the omnipotent beings who resided within. Since the plant would not grow anywhere outside of the vicinity where it was found, the natives were soon left with hardly any supply of it. It was at this time that some of them had started acting savagely, attempting to seek out more of the plants at any cost. The future of the unnamed community in the story took a turn for the worse when the people who ate the plants slowly transformed into abhorrent monstrosities. Their behavior was bestiality in its purest form, as they preyed upon any living thing they could come across. After the cannibalistic massacre on the untransformed members of the tribe had finished, the very few who survived told of how the beasts yelled a phrase in an inhuman language before the hellish things migrated to the mountains, never to be seen again.

Originally, the story had been used by the village elders to discourage younglings from venturing too far into the mountains. However, the story was eventually deemed by succeeding natives to be far too unwholesome and repulsive to ever be told to any individual both young and old, and so was intentionally stricken off from memory.

A sudden burst of thought forced its way into Julian's mind when the boy decided to take a brief repose from his research. Up until this point, he had done his best to put off one particular detail that would undoubtedly confirm his hidden fears. He approached the large magenta suitcase sequestered at the far end of the room, the very same case which housed the specimens he and his team had gathered. Slowly and reluctantly unzipping the main compartment, Julian once again saw the outlines of the nightmarish herbage that had indirectly been the root of all of his misfortunes. Once he had fully opened the valise, he frantically caught a whiff of the fragrance that ensued as a result of his action. Why then, did these particular individuals not emit their signature odor when they were initially found at the heart of the forest? As Julian probed them one by one, he noticed that a change in them now made them bear certain similarities to the specimens in the photos that he found online. Miniature thorns in their stems, similar to those from roses, had now appeared. Furthermore, their blue flowers had now become paler than before, as did the green of their leaves. Perhaps only certain environmental conditions permitted such a transformation to take place.

Realizing that his knowledge had come to a point of no return, he immersed himself once more into his studies. The succeeding manuscript proved to be even more terrifying than the previous one. Written mostly in Aklo, it delved deeper not only into the details regarding the beasts in the aforementioned folklore, but of a larger world of horrors that makes Pandora's Box look like a fairy tale in comparison. Considering that Aklo was a language not known to many, it was not at all surprising that Doctor Wilkins decided to shelf these documents entirely. While not entirely well-versed in Aklo, Julian could indubitably understand a few of the words in the script. At the back of the last page was also a short summary of the text in English, presumably written by one of Wilkins' contemporaries, which greatly aided Julian in piecing together the full story.

Unimaginable eons before the dawn of the last common ancestor of man and ape was a war that would irrevocably make all those that would come after it pale in comparison. Originating from the nethermost regions of uncharted space, it came to Earth purely by the twisted stroke of probability. It was an unholy war of cosmic proportions, though when it began is a matter wholly unknown to any living mortal. The crux of the war was an ancient evil that even the Great Old Ones feared. Its name the story would not mention, and it was the aberrant parthenogenetic spawn of Bokrug. Its savagery, brutality, and malignity were unlike any that had come before it, and no words in the human language could fully describe the horrors it once committed while it was free to roam the aethers. It grew and matured at an unprecedented rate, and preyed horribly upon any living entity unfortunate enough to come across it, and the rest of its ilk were no exception. Its gluttony rivaled that of Tsathoggua. Where it walked, mortals and gods trembled alike.

Eventually, the spawn somehow found its way to Earth, where it was quickly followed by other Old Ones who were bent on truncating its existence from the cosmos. Following a long and barbarous conflict not meant to be witnessed by lesser beings, the weakened titan was sealed deep within the bowels of the planet. For millions of years, the entombed titan slept, parts of its scales becoming one with the soil around it, inducing mutations to some of the surface flora. Most of the mutations proved to be deleterious, however, a few plant species developed unique advantages over their competitors in their respective ecosystems.

In the aftermath of the nightmarish feud, the surviving Old Ones purposefully effaced the horrible memory of the war and its cause from the minds of their servitors. Through time, any surviving knowledge of the entity became obscured, and not even the premonition of Abdul Alhazred could penetrate the veil of mystery that shrouded its resting place, leading to its outright exclusion from the _Necronomicon_.

Despite its stagnant existence in its seemingly inescapable prison, the fallen one managed to exert its influence on the dealings of the outer world in many unseen ways. Lesser lifeforms who would partake of its very seed in the form of its mutated flora would find their minds completely in its clutches and would become extensions of its consciousness. Once their transformation is full, they become virtually ageless, and they would join the deity beneath the surface to guard it until its irrevocable return in the far future. To this effect, these slaves have been collectively referred to as the "Mindless Ones". However, a special sect of its followers would not become devoid of intelligence, nor would they be transformed into hideous fiends. They were primarily tasked with making the proper plans and preparations pertinent to the resurgence of their master. This sect would go on to spread their genes across the world, breeding with unsuspecting human specimens to perpetuate the seed of the Great Old One.

The vile one must remain dead in false pretense, in order to allocate its energy towards revitalizing its damaged physical form, a process which may be equivalent to hundreds of thousands of years. Occasionally it would also devour some of its Mindless Ones to hasten its recuperation. Once every century or so, the titan would stir, and this very action would influence the growth and proliferation of its aberrant yet equally alluring vegetation, drawing more hapless souls to its influence.

At the time of writing of the story, the writer conjectures that the titan may not be significantly larger than a hillock. However, in a few millennia, it would grow to such a girth that would allow it to utterly overshadow the entirety of the Benguet region. Given a mere hundred thousand years more it would be able to engulf the entire planet, becoming one with it. All those who will not stand with it will be consumed by it, including the rest of the Great Old Ones. It will then regain the power to scale the vast expanse of space and will use this ability to spread chaos throughout the cosmos. It is only a matter of time before the fallen one fully awakens. When it does, hardly any creature foul or fair will be spared from its wrath. Its former adversaries will rue the day they opposed it, for it will consume all there ever will be. Ultimately, it will blossom into its final form as an Outer God and take its rightful place in the court of Azathoth.

Julian found it hard to react for the better part of dawn, for even his nigh-limitless capability for imagination could not help him make sense of the story any more than the recent phenomena could. It could not possibly be real, could it? Could reality truly give birth to higher forms of consciousness so entirely transcendental to man? What if this was all a massive conspiracy instigated by the myth cycles of the native people? And yet, every bit of detail in these stories highly supplements the events that have taken place before his very eyes. Why was he the one left to assemble the pieces of a dreadful puzzle? What could he possibly do in the face of laws and forces beyond his comprehension?

The young man felt like a helpless child in the midst of an uncaring crowd. Even with recognized futility, he now wanted more than ever to return to his ancestral house at old Engineer's Hill in Baguio. He thought about how he would wrap his arms around his caring mother, conservative though she may be, and sit and tell stories with her until neither of them had anything more to say. He would tell her about how his fieldwork went along the shores of Bolinao, where he witnessed actual living arthropods, brittle stars, molluscs, and helminths scurry and swim around and about. He wanted to lie on his bed, cover his body with his comfortable quilt, and wake up next morning ready to go to school. He wanted to jog around Burnham Park, where tourists and citizens alike would dance and sing along every song they would hear. He wanted to sit on one of the stone benches and watch how the central lake would be filled with the joys of the vibrant youth while they rode colorful gondolas beneath the morning sun.

Once, on a quiet Sunday morning, he would play with his cousins near the Baguio Cathedral and hear the soothing chants of the choirs from within. The bell would also ring from its place aloft inside the cathedral's belfry every time there was a mass, and a much younger Julian often wondered what it was like to view the world from that height. During the afternoon up until the evening, the hopeful fledglings would traverse Session Road, running past busy streets and settlements in the cold breeze under the moonlight.

In another time, he had hoped to finish his degree with honors, and acquire such a job that would allow him to experience unprecedented wonders in the world that he had only read about in his books. How naive he had been back then to think that there were any wholesome wonders to give. In the waking world, there is only cosmic horror. There is no one to help Julian now. Not his parents, and certainly not some imaginary benign creator.

Still, with admirable fortitude uncharacteristic of an individual of his age, he tried with the minute amount of hope he had inside of him to produce a scientifically sound argument to explain the most recent tragedies. It is indeed entirely possible that the ferns were an invasive species, as Doctor Wilkins once conjectured. At some point in the prehistoric past, they evolved independently as a separate taxon along their evolutionary tree to possess inflorescences. As is the case with other cryptic plants, these flowers must have produced certain toxins or other oxidizing agents which, when either touched or consumed, induced the symptoms of the fever that had most recently gained its foothold on the unsuspecting tourists of John Hay. As for the storm, its unexpectedness must have been caused by global warming, with its aftermath allowing a deranged cult to emerge from the shadows. This cult, no doubt having members that were inspired by the fictional tale of the fallen deity, saw the opportunity to spread fear and chaos in any way that they can, for reasons that were known only to them.

And what of the curious smell and the unseen creature back at Lucban's abode? Remembering all he had learned of the ferns so recently, he deduced that a considerable concentration of the specimens may have been inconspicuously present in the vicinity of the old woman's house, accounting for the odor. To tie everything up, whatever sounds he heard were likely the result of his severe drowsiness at the time. After all, did Lucban not tell him that she had never known of any animal of such a kind in the many years she has lived in her home? Perhaps the exaggerated warning she later issued to Julian was merely akin to that of an overprotective mother who does not want anyone else to suffer the same fate as her child did? Indeed, all of these facts logically complemented each other. In the end, he realized that he had been unhealthily putting in too much thought into minute things that do not even have the slightest relation with each other.

Alas, despite being filled with renewed vigor and hopefulness, Julian understood that he could do no more than to wait patiently for the roads back to the main city to be cleared. All the while, his mind and body have both started to give in to all the hefty weariness his current plight had given him, and without a second thought he dozed off into the morning.

VI

It was already noon by the time Julian woke up, and he realized that it was the first time that he had slept so well in so long a period of time. Outside, Camp John Hay continued to become a macrocosm of fear, worry, and anxiety, as the feeling of being cut off from the outside world had begun taking its toll on its inhabitants. Most of the eateries have closed off due to the lack of the scheduled delivery of supplies, forcing the management of the site to offer its last reserves of food and shelter to those who had need of them. According to radio reports in Baguio, the clearing of hazards along the roads was still taking place, an activity which has been made far more difficult because of the civil unrest that the city had become a melting pot of. On a more uplifting note, the debris near John Hay should be taken care of the following day according to a contact from the road management team. Additionally, a government helicopter was sent to distribute relief goods. Meanwhile, the doctors at the clinic persevered to slow down the deterioration of the patients and maintain their current physical condition for as long as was needed.

It seemed that everything had taken a turn for the better, and Julian may be able to go home and reunite with his family after all. Because of his heightened sense of joy, he felt inclined to offer his aid to the relief party and participated in the distribution of the supplies that they brought in with them. Contrary to his working environment the previous night, it was altogether a pleasure to converse and interact with functioning human beings, distressed though some of them may be.

During the afternoon, he decided to enjoy the remaining hours of his stay by walking around the campus and feeling the tickling sensation of the frigid breeze that defined the Benguet province. He wanted to remove all of the negative emotions that his fieldwork had placed upon him to bear the moment it went awry. He walked while observing the stupendous conifers that bordered and penetrated the village. The unprecedented tenacity, adaptability, and variety of the plant kingdom have never ceased to amaze him, and he has always appreciated how humanity would never have come into being had it not been for these wondrous creations of nature. From being simple photosynthetic prokaryotes swimming the waves of Earth's primordial seas to dominating every corner of the land in a wide variety of forms, shapes, and adaptations, they are ubiquitous. One would be hard-pressed to find a single crag or crevice that does not contain any form of vegetation. Animal life clearly requires the aid of plant life, but not the other way around. Some of the pines in the very mountain that Julian was standing on must have been hundreds of years old, and will no doubt continue to stand long after his physical form had faded into interstellar dust.

Far over the distance, the other Cordilleran mountains rose prominently against the glow of the midday sun. Their mere arrangement gave clear impressions of elegance as they bore upon them towns and villages which overlaid the surfaces of the mountains with a plethora of colors. Truly, the beauty of the Benguet province can never be overstated, for if there was a single place in the Philippines that contained lasting evidence of the grandeur of the Earth's past, then one need not look further.

He often wondered what the original state of the mountains may have looked like in their infancy, when nature itself was free from the corruptive tampering of its simian overlords. Indeed, if another group of organisms has the right to inherit the world long after the inevitable extinction of mankind, it would be none other than the plants.

When he returned to his hotel room, he immediately phoned his mother and told her with conviction that he was bound for Baguio City the next day. Though they were miles apart from each other, he felt elated with the knowledge that he was at least not alone in his endeavors. He spent the remainder of his working hours reading novels, an activity he has been deprived of since the onset of his fieldwork. At last, his mind and body felt the tug of sleepiness once more, and he closed his eyes to wake up the next day, ready to return to civilization.

VII

Upon checking his watch, Julian found that it was only four o'clock in the morning, and that he had only been asleep for roughly five hours. He felt sure that he was woken up by what seemed like an earthquake. When he opened the door of his room to check whether it was felt by any of the other occupants in the hotel, he heard a heavy wooden crash somewhere in the hallway to his far-right, like the sound of someone breaking into a room. Afterward, he flinched when he heard the shrill cry of a woman and some children. He immediately slammed his door shut, and instinctively barred the door with a wooden desk of moderate mass, while turning off all possible sources of lights or sounds in his room.

Standing still in the middle of the room, his heart raced as he heard more screams from outside. For a few fleeting moments following the last bellow, there was utter silence. Then, coming in softly at first, were the sounds of footsteps approaching his room. From the depth of the auditory impressions they made, the people who were producing them must have been massive, and also numerous. At last, from the sliver of light that came from the space at the base of Julian's door, he saw a shadow of at least a single individual. The young man's heart pounded heavily in his chest, and he wanted to cry and scream out loud, if only to finally meet his end and be freed from this endless cycle of terror. But he found that he could not, even if he wanted to, for the fear that had exponentially welled up from within him had made certain that his linguistic facilities be entirely devoid of the ability to relinquish any form of sound.

Soon, Julian's worst fears were realized. The stranger outside was forcefully trying to open the door of the boy's room by trying the doorknob. Julian did not dare move, lest he give away his presence to whatever atrocious monstrosity was waiting for him outside. To his utter bewilderment, the stranger seemed to have given up easily on his door, with the shadow moving along the corridor. Shortly after, more shadows followed, giving Julian a chance to estimate that the intrusive company must have amounted to at least twenty individuals. Finally, there came the one greatest detail that singularly took away from Julian all remaining vestiges of hope the poor boy has ever had. As more of the strangers passed by, he noticed that the otherworldly aroma was now stronger than he had ever beheld. Indeed, the smell now induced a stinging sensation to the nasal cavities of the miserable boy and almost made him sneeze had he not suppressed the urge in time. It could not have come from the ferns, for the specimens were meticulously secured inside heavy cases that would not permit such chemical signals to escape their confines.

The graveness of the terror that impounded all of John Hay had now become all too clear to Julian. Complementing the aroma were the sounds of deep grunts, or snorts, which led the boy to conclude that his nightmare from Lucban's abode was anything but. Whatever made the sounds then was now inside the hotel he was staying in, and it had brought a company with it. At this point, Julian had little reason to doubt the fact that they were not human, at least not anymore, but perverse forms of life which stemmed from an even greater terror from beyond our notion of reality.

Julian shuddered when more blood-curdling screams were heard from the rooms adjacent to his. Though it seemed that he was no longer in any apparent danger, he nonetheless felt paralyzed in his place, fearing that whatever had passed him may return at any moment. He had no idea how long he had been standing there, but eventually, he found the strength to unlock his door and walk outside. Some of the rooms nearby were virtually undisturbed, while some had their doors forced open. Julian dared not look inside the latter, lest he stumble upon abhorrent scenes of utter blasphemy. Instead, he walked along as stealthily as he could. He opted not to make use of the elevator, for if he ran into any of the creatures, his best chance of escape was surely by the stairs.

There was no sound to be heard anywhere in the hotel save for his light footsteps. Upon reaching the ground floor, he found that the receptionist at the counter was absent. Further ahead were traces of what appears to have been a violent feud, as chairs and tables lay strewn about, some of them in tatters. There were also bloodstains that were not immediately noticeable because of the velvet color of the carpet they were on. Trudging on outside, he stumbled upon a scenery which only the most sadistic painter could ever hope to render. There was virtually no one in sight, effectively turning John Hay into a ghost town. The further Julian went, the more he wished he had stayed inside the comforts of his hotel room. From both sides of the road were cars that either crashed into each other or were forcefully opened, while the buildings appeared dilapidated and completely devoid of any living soul, despite being occupied only a few hours ago. Every now and then more bloodstains would be found, and garbage receptacles lay tumbled along the road, their contents spilling over and emitting foul stenches.

At first, he could not fully determine why he had kept on going until the thought of Elesa sprang to his mind. As quickly as his weakened facilities could permit, he ran towards the John Hay clinic, all the while feeling that something was watching him from the shadows. He did not even need to do what he was doing now. He could simply get out of the campus, climb the three-meter mound that had collapsed along the road towards Baguio, and keep on running until he found someone to help him.

Despite these thoughts, Julian could not find it in him to abandon his contemporaries. They have treated him well, have they not? How many other people could make such a claim? Or was this supposed act of heroism fueled by a dark instinct buried within him? Had he subconsciously wanted to claim Elesa for himself all this time? Whatever the case may be, they deserved his help, and he would give it to them, for better or worse. He ran along the now dimly-lit roads of the campus, where high-spirited tourists of all ages once roamed. When the sight of the clinic came upon his view, he paused to catch his breath. Unlike most of the other buildings, the medical center still had all of its lights on. It was, however, equally desolate. Hardening his resolve, Julian opened the front doors with shuddering hands.

Papers, plastics, chairs, and rolling tables were entropically scattered all over the floor. The bloodstains were also much more prominent, and even more terrifying to behold than those from outside, as long streaks of them could be found on the walls. The residue of the fern aroma was all over the place, and occasionally there would be found regularly-spaced cracks on the floor that resembled massive footprints. The deeper into the mystery the young man went, the more maddening the clues became.

Julian refused to look past the windows of the various rooms that he passed, for fear that he might see something that could potentially deter him from his mission. Eventually, he reached the room where all of those afflicted with the cryptic ailment were contained. Much to his trepidation, the doors to the room were swung open. The aroma was undeniably sharper inside, but there was not a single person to be found, let alone his contemporaries. All of the beds were vacant, yet there were bloodstains on a few of them. Even more peculiar is the fact that there appeared to be patches of vegetative growths on the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. They were mostly creeping vines and leaves and must have been the source of the heightened aroma.

Refusing to form conjectures of the worst possible kind, Julian quietly stepped out of the room and back towards the cold embrace of the evening. He was at a loss as to how such a large mass of people could disappear so suddenly. There was naught a child to be found crying inside any of the settlements, nor on the streets. There were also no authorities to help him make sense of the situation. Perhaps a few people had been fortunate enough to escape their fates and conceal themselves beneath certain bunkers or obscure rooms in some of the buildings. But there was no time to conduct a thorough search of the whole campus as of the moment, nor was Julian in a position to give the survivors relief either way if he had found them. All he can do for them now is to hope that they can last long enough for them to be aided by the rescue party that was bound for John Hay in a few hours.

Clearly, whoever was responsible for this heinous crime had planned it with utmost meticulousness, no matter how chaotic it may have turned out. The clock was ticking, and at last, he decided upon a final desperate bid to save his team. If he had been right all along about the cause of all this madness, then there will be a very small probability of him ever seeing the light of day again should he resolve to see his objective through to its bitter end.

Trudging back towards the deserted hotel, he went inside his room and brought with him a flashlight. Upon realizing that his recent sojourn had left him with a parched throat, he helped himself with a glass of water before setting off. He had also taken a single knife from the hotel's kitchen room, though he was not sure if it would be sufficient to ward off any of the preternatural horrors he was likely to run into. He wrote in his diary an unabridged account of all that had occurred since his coming to John Hay, and did not care what the detectives will make of it when it falls on their hands. Once he had made his final preparations, he phoned his mother for what may be the final time. When she answered, he did not tell her about the crisis that had ensued. He merely told her that he loved her with every fiber of his being. Upon receiving a reciprocating answer, he put down his phone and moved on.

Running towards the entrance of John Hay, he found that the relief helicopter from earlier was on fire. Not stopping to inspect it, he went inside the John Hay police house and phoned the proper authorities to make haste with their arrival, his reason being that there had been another disaster and that a lot of people required serious aid. Before the receiving end could even formulate a followup response, the boy had begun to sprint towards the path adjacent to John Hay that led to Lucban's house. Onward through the blackness he ran, neither looking back nor looking around to see if he was being pursued by someone or _something_.

VIII

Lucban's house stood ominously beneath the pale moonlight. Only the chirps of unseen invertebrates could be heard, and the chill breeze of the evening further intensified the terror that the ghastly scenery evoked. All of the lights inside the house were turned off, and there was not a single sign of its tenant anywhere.

Julian knocked at the door and waited a few moments for a response. Nothing stirred inside the dated hut, even after he had fully caught his breath. He knocked for a second time to the same results. Using all of the strength that he could muster, he kicked and lunged at the door until it gave in, not stopping to think about the repercussions of his deed. His body immediately felt sore afterward, but the sensation was immediately drowned by the sound of rustling leaves in the external vicinity. Inside, the fern aroma as well as the creeping vegetation were abounding. Though fear and desperation had taken hold of him, the boy still had enough composure to systematically search the place for old Lucban. He did not want to call her out loudly, since he had already generated enough ruckus breaking inside, and did not want to give away any more of his presence to the eldritch horrors that lay prowling outside.

Minutes of searching finally confirmed that the house was unoccupied as of the moment. Feeling completely helpless and without direction, the young man rummaged further for something, though he did not know what. Suddenly, he heard an unholy murmuring from outside, coupled with heavy footsteps. The aroma sharpened, and when he sneaked up on one of the windows he saw the silhouette of a very massive humanoid figure approaching the house. The depth of the tone of his voice was singularly terrifying, and could not possibly have been formed by the vocal apparatuses of a human being. He repeatedly uttered a single line in Aklo, and from what Julian could make out, it sounded like: "_Hup bthnknythh ot shugg throdog Zog-calicath ephainafl'fhtagn_". Paralyzed with fear, the boy could do nothing but stand petrified in his place as the behemoth closed in on him. Before he could fully discern the appearance of the individual, Julian fainted.

When he came to, he became aware that he was lying on top of a cold, rocky surface. He slowly got up and inspected his surroundings. All around him were lofty stone walls of curious angles, and placed upon them on regular intervals were cyclopean torches that held blue flames, which provided the only source of light. Everything about the place had a sense of intricacy within it, and the unearthly geometry of the torches as well as the walls were very reminiscent of the antediluvian architectures described in the _Necronomicon_, reviving the dread inside the young man that had temporarily died down. From every direction there could be found archways towards corridors, halls, and passageways that stretched indefinitely into the darkness. Some distance above him, Julian could faintly make out the sounds of a stream flowing and trickling down its path. He then deducted that this vast network of chambers he was in was most likely nestled deep in the Cordilleran mountains, and may very well extend beyond them. On almost every surface that could be touched by the blue fluorescence were concavities that were a mix of symbols, figures, and phrases in Aklo. Some were fully visible, while others were obscured by the creeping vines that were omnipresent. A few of the phrases the observer was able to translate. From what could be pieced together, they appeared to tell the story of the universe. The ones that were in the room that Julian was in seemed to be about the formation of the solar system, accompanied by a graphic representation of it.

Foraging around, he entered a smaller room to his southwest. In it were several bizarre effigies that were sculpted with unmatched gracefulness. They were orderly arranged at various levels all around the room. Beneath the azure light of the torches, the material they were constructed out of seemed to glow in magnificent opalescence, leaving the viewer with a feeling of discomfort as a result of the unnatural beauty of that which is being beheld. One of the larger replicas appeared as a group of columns, each of which is composed of stacks of orbs that occasionally would take the shape of an eye. Beside it was an equally large figure that was very reminiscent of a horribly malformed goat. It had at least six stubby legs with hooves for feet, and its torso was mainly characterized by tree-like branches. At the topmost level was the figure of a large Pharaoh-like character that was abnormally skinny and possessed a set of tentacles that protruded from various points along its grotesque body. Clearly, the proportions, deformations, and geometric abnormalities of all the effigies bore no outright resemblance to anything that man's notion of the natural could ever offer.

After trembling at the unholy sights which surrounded him, Julian staggered towards the only large door in the room. Inside, there were no lights at all. In order for him to even remotely make something out, he had to fully open the door to allow a small amount of light to pass through and illuminate a fraction of the area. He soon became aware that he was standing in a very narrow stone passageway. All around him, there was only darkness. Backtracking towards the small room, the boy took one of the blue torches in it and used it to explore more of the mysterious hallway. Even with his newfound method of illumination, the walls as well as the bottom of the prodigious room were still out of sight. He continued to wander further mindlessly into the seemingly unending corridor but stopped when he heard a low mumbling sound. It seemed to be originating from somewhere high up in the eastern wall.

Julian let a few moments pass before he dismissed the mumbling as a figment of his imagination bordering along insanity. When he finally decided to move on, he heard a sobbing sound from the same elevated point. His heart raced, and adrenaline welled up from every part of his body. There was something malignant about the sound of the sobs, as if they were crudely-produced by oral apparatuses mercilessly complex and foreign compared to those of the rest of the animal kingdom. Suddenly, the whimpers transitioned into _actual words_, which, as far as Julian could understand, went along the lines of "Help us! Free us!". The lines sounded as if whatever was calling to him was trying hard to imitate human speech. Accompanying the expressions were the faint flapping of wings, as well as odd clicking sounds that made Julian drop the torch he was carrying and run all the way back into the small room and into the chamber from where he started.

Terrified out of his wits though he was, he was nonetheless determined to explore other areas if it meant finding his team. As if influenced by an invisible hand, Julian curiously walked towards the room to his right and found within the continuation of the story of the murals with the formation of the Earth.

The manner that the impressions were made was altogether very artistic and impressive. Despite the extreme suspicion that the boy had regarding their origins, his endless desire for knowledge prompted him to carry on. What if he was dreaming? Perhaps all that had taken place up until this point had been nothing but fantasy, like how Randolph Carter woke up in his old home in Boston after a grand adventure in the Dreamlands. Perhaps he too would wake up any moment now, learning that his unprecedented capability for imagination was the one to blame for all the surreal terrors he had beheld. He would wake up on a Saturday morning like he should have, kiss his mother goodbye, and meet with his friends at the University of the Philippines before setting off for John Hay. He would finish his degree in time and be awarded special privileges that would allow him to pursue his studies abroad and witness the diversity and splendor the planet has to offer.

Yet here he stood, shrouded in darkness while trapped in the depths of goodness knows where. Why had he been too stubborn to accept the truth? It had been right under his nose this whole time, yet somehow the delicate cognitive prowess of his mind had given him a shimmer of hope that he may actually find his way back home. Somewhere deep within his humanity, he had fully understood the place of his species in the cosmos. Some small part of him even felt elated at the thought that he had been right all along to denounce his faith. If only the feeble-minded simians who laughed at him all those years ago could behold all the wonders he was experiencing now. How satisfying it would be to see the appalling molds their faces would cast upon finding out that they were no more than a mere accident that resulted from a primordial soup. Inscribed along the walls were representations of various races that came to Earth in its infancy. Julian recognized a few of them, including the Elder Things and the Cthulhi. He pressed forth into the charnel depths of the labyrinth, following the story as it led to the present, his mental processes torn between absolute unrelenting fear and exhilarating revelation. The path he was taking seemed to be solely about Earth's development, as he had now reached a point where dinosaurs were depicted in the carvings.

In time, without pausing for repose, and with newfound preternatural vigor, he came upon an idiosyncratic mural that occupied the entire wall of a very large chamber. It had no words in it, for it was a purely visual narrative of what took place right after the dinosaurs became extinct. The bottom part of the mural depicts a mountain range above which a ferocious battle was held. The central part was divided into two, representing the opposing factions of the war. On the left side were forms that were unmistakably alien in appearance, as their shapes and anatomies did not match any life form that modern science had documented. Every single one of them bore grotesque tentacles, and some had several cephalic regions that contained numerous orifices which may have been their mouths. On the right side were two mostly reptilian shapes, with one of them looking infinitely more horrible than any of the other characters in the mural. It had a vague outline of a bipedal crocodilian. It had a pair of eyes on each side of its head while possessing an assemblage of small tentacles beneath its lower jaw. Its mouth contained several rows of sharp teeth, while extruding a very lengthy tongue that had a tip which resembled a humanoid skull. The body of the entity was covered with spiny protrusions, and aside from its main forelimbs and hind limbs, it also possessed two pairs of smaller human-like arms on either side of its belly. On its back could be found plant-like bodies, such as bulbs and inflorescences.

In the midst of all the wonders he was experiencing, Julian shuddered at the sight of a detail that perfectly and irrevocably tied up all the loose ends of the mystery. The most prominent protrusions on the back of the reptilian titan were two large fern-like structures that bore an uncanny resemblance to the subjects of the young man's research. At once, he realized that the mural was the visualization of the story he had read before in the collection of Doctor Wilkins. Since the warring figures appeared to be larger than the mountains below them, the boy was now certain that they were Great Old Ones. The less terrible figure on the right must have been none other than the great Bokrug, doom of Sarnath, and the character below it, its aberrant spawn. All around the great deities were smaller winged figures that resembled a cross between a fungus and a crustacean.

Not wanting to go out into the night without seeing how the story ended, Julian kept on going, his sanity being kept intact solely by his curiosity. Having no sense of time inside the concrete prison, the hapless boy did not have the faintest idea of how many hours he had spent walking. Eventually, he noticed that the rooms seem to be getting smaller and smaller as he went on. As for the inscriptions, he had now come to the point where human civilization had blossomed across every corner of the planet, corrupting everything it touched. Soon, the rooms have become small enough for him to be able to touch the ceiling simply by stretching his arm fully while tiptoeing. He now stood in front of an archway that did not bear any torch. Knowing all too well that there was hardly anything left to lose, he went inside. He emerged in a larger corridor that contained cages on its walls on either side. The fern aroma had returned, and though he could not see anything inside the cages from where he stood, he nonetheless heard several high-pitched moans and groans that originated from within them. Some were entirely alien, while others still disturbingly contained the last vestiges of oral faculties straining themselves to retain what small amount of humanity they still had left in them. Ahead was a domed chamber that he postulated must have been the crux point of the entire network of caves and tunnels, as he also saw from all directions passageways that led to even more of the cages and into the larger inscribed walls. He saw that the path he took was only one of the many possible routes and that he would eventually have wound up here regardless of which story he followed. The roof of the dome contained a highly detailed mural of several circles that radiated from a dark monstrosity at the center. The figure was blasphemously amorphous, possessing multiple sets of eyes and teeth. All around it were equally terrifying figures that bore prodigious flutes on their tentacled appendages.

At the center of the dome was a gaping orifice that was roughly twice the height of Julian in diameter. Despite the fact that it was flanked by more of the angled torches, its bottom could not be seen, for it must have been very deep. Suddenly, the young man heard several footsteps approaching him from behind. He wished he had not turned, for when he did he saw only the most frightening image. Standing before him was a huge mob that was led in front by tribesmen clad in their indigenous attire. He noticed a familiar sight in the form of Lucban, who was among the leading party. Behind the otherwise human trailblazers were the creatures that Julian had tried to elude up until this point. The words grotesque, ungodly, and malignant were simply not enough to describe their horrible anatomy and visage. Onward they trudged toward Julian with their massive leathery legs and arms. When they stopped, Julian finally had the chance to view them under a considerable amount of fluorescence. Their eyes were reminiscent of that of a feline, and while their body was undeniably humanoid in structure, their skin was entirely green and possessed protrusions all over. Vine-like growths were wrapped around their arms and legs, and yet their savage appearance was offset by their singularly fragrant aroma.

One of the indigenous leaders approached Julian and inspected him closely, probing him and beckoning his fellow leaders to do the same. A curious Mindless One tried to approach, but Lucban gave a shrill shout that sent him back in his place. Julian could not help but notice a resemblance between the old lady and the creature she had disciplined. After minutes of visual observation and prodding, the first elder to approach Julian spoke to him. He had a rough and dated voice, though his stature proved otherwise. He spoke mostly in Ibaloi, but from time to time he would also speak in Aklo.

The man had educated Julian with the workings of the cult of their god, a being known as Zog-calicath. It appeared that millions of years ago, Zog-calicath and its parent had indeed crashed on primitive Earth as a result of their dispute with the other Old Ones. Through time, mountains and hillocks accumulated on top of its tomb, forming what is now the Benguet province. Its cult had been growing since the dawn of man, and the narrator claims that he had been alive since the said cult's onset, retaining his youthfulness for several generations.

Lucban is also one of the blessed few who had been granted the exalted status as a priestess of Zog-calicath. Though not as old as the rest of the leading party, she was just as well-versed as they were regarding her place in the cult. Most disturbing of all is the claim of one of the other elders that he had personally known the paternal great grandfather of Julian. According to the old man, the unsuspecting boy had originated from a lineage of servitors of Zog-calicath that retained their humanity and gained immortality, in exchange for their eternal servitude and ultimate consumption when the great deity reemerges from its slumber.

Refusing to believe in the information that had been passively handed down to him, Julian challenged the elder by asking him what his great grandfather had been like. As if possessing a sort of photographic memory, the elder recounted in detail not only the physical features of Julian's ancestor but also the kind of life that he led when he was still alive. All of his statements were accounts that could not have been known by any individual who was not an immediate relative of the boy. The elder concluded the story by recounting the untimely death of Julian's great grandfather during an altercation against another unnamed cult.

The tense situation was then interrupted by an earthquake of modest intensity. This allowed Julian to grab one of the torches by the abyss and use it to threaten the mob before him. The foul beasts roared in anger or perhaps in fear, while Lucban and the elders took a step back. They now spoke angrily in Aklo. One of them tried to approach, prompting the young man to flail the torch at him, mildly scorching the would-be attacker's hand and sending him kneeling in pain. Lucban then started commanding some of the Mindless Ones to surround the young man. Unfortunately for Julian, he was soon overpowered, his torch being beaten from him and into the blackness of the abyss.

He lay bloodily on the floor, and although he had wanted his aggressors to finish him off for good, he was instead raised up by one of them and was forced to face Lucban. She explained to the boy that Zog-calicath had chosen him to be his most exalted loyalist due to his inimitable capability of comprehending the complexities of reality. One day, when the stars are right and the conditions are perfect for the awakening of the titan, he will make the final incantations that will break the spells that the Old Ones have placed upon it. Refusing to be used as a pawn in a game he did not willingly join, he struggled in vain in the hands of his captor. As a futile act of last resort, he screamed at the top of his lungs that he will not submit himself to any oppressor, be they man or god.

Just as the poor boy thought that there were no further horrors the apathetic universe had in store for him came a second earthquake of far greater magnitude which was sufficient to cause some of the Mindless Ones along the rim of the pit to fall into it. As they plunged into the darkness below, their agonizing screams could be heard. After a few moments of bewilderment from Julian and his aggressors, there came a deep sardonic laugh from the depths of the pit, which reverberated throughout the entire stone chamber, instigating another mild earthquake. The rest of the mob shuddered, and the beast that had taken hold of him had fortuitously released him.

The cult was now slowly backing away from him. Even the ghastly monstrosities showed a singularly evident expression of terror on their appalling faces. Another more powerful laugh immediately resounded from the abyss, which was so powerful that the stone ceiling that held the mural had started to form cracks.

The next few events veered away from normal perception that made it difficult for the poor boy to discriminate whether they stemmed from reality or from dreams. Upon opening his eyes, Julian saw that he was on top of a hillock. Stretched before him in all directions were other hillocks, plains, and valleys, all of which were remarkably covered by green grass. Far off on the horizon he could make out mountains of extraordinary heights. At a loss on what to do or how to react to the situation, he merely sat in contemplation on the lush soil upon which he stood. The next moment, he heard a very familiar voice somewhere above him. As he turned around, he saw the extravagant form of Elesa, hovering over him like a fabled angel. She was wearing a white dress and was barefoot. The particular scene reminded Julian of the stereotypical depictions of the afterlife in classic films that his parents watched. After drifting for a few minutes, the feet of the girl touched the ground. She looked at him and smiled, looking extremely beautiful. He approached her and gave her a hug. There was no doubt about it, he was holding the love of his life in his arms. The warmth of her delicate skin and the softness of her dress drove Julian to the brink of sheer ecstasy. If this was the afterlife, then he was right to have wished for death.

IX

The days following the unblocking of the roads that connected Camp John Hay and the central city were met with an unrelenting wave of uneasiness among the citizens. The management of the tourist spot was assailed with several questions from the relatives of all of the missing tourists and employees. When no appropriate response was issued, death threats were made and various lawsuits were filed.

Baguio's local government coordinated with the police as well as the military to solve the missing persons case. For the next few weeks, all the involved search parties worked painstakingly, yet despite their best efforts, they could not come up with anything beyond the theory that a massacre had taken place while the community was isolated from the outside world. Due to the media's influence, the enigmatic event will be forever known only as the "Nightmare At John Hay". It would eventually escalate into a global phenomenon, with numerous news outlets from all around the globe capitalizing on its notoriety in the years that followed. On the other hand, conspiracy theorists would time and again postulate outlandish explanations that ranged from a wide variety of subjects including religion, occultism, and demonology. Yet hardly a soul alive today will ever know the truth about what happened, for the two surviving security guards from the incident hung themselves a mere week after they singularly reported the abhorrent events that they witnessed. As was expected, their testimony fell into skeptical ears, and it did not take long for theories to surface that they were somehow involved in the massacre. The rest of the surviving parties found in some of the warehouses in the more obscure buildings had been all but sane since being rescued, and could not contribute anything of value to the case.

Even more intriguing were two more survivors that were found deep in the woodlands of John Hay. After careful inspection, they were immediately identified as Julian Dela Cruz and Elesa Santiago. The latter was the first to wake up, and when she was interrogated, she told the story of how a cult savagely and brutally attacked the John Hay clinic, and of how she eluded them by running with all the strength she could muster towards the forest. Afterward, she confessed that she blacked out when she tripped upon an obtrusive tree root and fell down, and so could not begin to conjecture what had happened to Leonard Garcia, Paulo Rabago, and Georgia Wilkins. Additionally, not a single remnant of the disease could be found within her after taking her medical examination. Without any more reason to hold her, the officials returned her safely to her family.

Julian woke up five days after being in a comatose state. He found seated next to his bed his mother and father, and quickly wrapped his arms around them. When the medics have confirmed that he was in a state fit for interrogation, several questions poured in from all directions. For the most part, Julian answered truthfully, though he was more apprehensive in speaking of the more mystical aspect of the tragedy, often offering a more plausible scientific explanation as best he could fabricate. Upon being asked regarding his fanciful account in his diary, he articulately explained that it was nothing more than a story that his overly creative imagination had formulated while he was stranded in hellish John Hay. His conviction in answering was highly effective, and he was soon dismissed by the proper authorities.

Unfortunately, none of the collected specimens were found intact inside the suitcase they were in. By the time Julian had opened the container, all of them had withered beyond the point of recovery. Several weeks after the incident, Julian and Elesa returned with several faculty members from the university's Department of Biology, only to find out that the rest of the population of the cryptic fern had mysteriously vanished. The pair were then advised to instead research on another topic altogether, which they did without delay. Although they extended one semester, they were nonetheless able to finish their new study regarding the allelopathic effects of a certain shrub on the vegetation around it. The groundbreaking findings of the aforementioned study won the pair the award for Best Thesis.

Yet none of the two young scientists will ever be the same again. Julian, after speaking for the first time to Elesa since the nightmare, found that she had lied to the authorities regarding her escape from the clinic the night it was attacked. In truth, she had had no recollection of the events that took place after being admitted to the clinic, let alone her supposed palpable encounter with the young man atop the grassy hillock in the dreamy landscape. Even more puzzling is that her demeanor had altogether changed. Once she was a vigorous girl who would gladly smile at her fellow students. She would joyfully greet them and converse with them, even those that she had only known for a short amount of time. Now there was only a reclusive individual who would not even open up to her own kin, although she was otherwise physically untainted, as she was still as beautiful as she had always been. Interestingly, she now found more comfort when she was with Julian than any other person. Her sudden affinity for him had allowed the boy to elaborate his feelings upon her, something that she irrevocably reciprocated.

In the years that followed, the pair would go on to become a couple. Neither wanted to make sense or even reminisce all that had happened on that fateful weekend, or why their contemporaries were not fortunate enough to make it out of the nightmare that ensued. Out of respect for their friend, they would time and again visit his grave at the Baguio Cemetery, where Julian would lay upon Leonard's burial site beautiful flowers, which the mother of the former gladly donated from her collection. However, somewhere deep within them, the couple felt that their former colleagues were anything but deceased.

On the other hand, Camp John Hay was found to still be profitable after undergoing many renovations. Not even the exaggerated stories and theories corroborated by the omnipresent media outlets could deter the success of the tourist spot, for it was still undeniably a thing of utmost magnificence. More and more settlements were built, and before long the nightmare had become a thing of memory. But beneath the marvelous community, Julian knew that there stretched out for endless miles the pandemoniac chambers and catacombs that he himself once traversed. Somewhere in those deep unlit crevices lay an entity that originated from dimensions outside the cosmic sphere, a region untrodden by even the remotest photon a single person can emit in their lifetime.

Several featured stories in various newspapers would time and again tell of certain interesting developments, including those of miners going insane for no apparent reason, with some of them even vanishing into the depths of the mines, never to be seen again; of some Ibaloi children swearing that they witness the Cordilleran mountains "stir" during some nights when hardly any watchful eyes are awake; and finally of the sudden appearance of a new faultline that was discovered by the National Institute of Geological Sciences which ran through the entire Benguet province all the way to Cagayan Valley in the north. Ultimately, no one in their right mind would suspect that all three phenomena are inextricably linked with one another.

At night, Julian would make it a habit to look up into the night sky and behold the achromatic glow of the moon shining its brilliance upon his tottering city. And every time he did, he imagined the multitude of eldritch secrets that hid in the darkest recesses of the Earth that could not or would not be touched by the celestial light of the moon.

On top of all that had happened, Julian is at least satisfied with how his life is turning out. He had gotten what he wanted all along, for he is now living happily and peacefully with Elesa, and every night they would unleash their most animalistic desires upon each other and make love for hours on end. The universe was not so cruel after all...or was it? Could their union have been caused by the machinations of a force beyond their control? What had really transpired that night in the chamber of the Mindless Ones? How did he even escape the confines of that infernal Tartarus into the surface world? If what Lucban said was true, then he was due to play a reluctant yet significant role at some undetermined point in the future. Whether he has the ability to abandon his destiny, he would have to wait an eternity to find out. And in the event that he could not, then at least Elesa as well as his parents will have faded into interstellar dust by that time. Thankfully, they will be mercifully spared from the turmoil that will plague the world when the Old Ones resurface. Right now, at least, he was pleasurably holding his wife in his arms, and that was all that mattered. Surely, he deserved all the good things that were coming his way, no matter who or what sent them. And so Julian once more dozed off into the night with Elesa beside him.

All around their humble abode, human civilization continued to flourish and evolve. Hotels, condominiums, and business offices were being built all the time. Each time a new building was constructed, it was undeniably larger and more sophisticated than those that came before it. Indeed, by the time the new railway system that allowed travel throughout the entire Philippines was built, it was estimated that Baguio had lost roughly ninety percent of its native plant species. It is, after all, wholly within the nature of humans to perpetuate themselves in the most unprecedented ways imaginable. When they are within the comforts of their prodigious infrastructures, doing whatever gives them utmost pleasure, they care not about the unfortunate life forms that were trampled in the process of their industrialization. When they are surrounded by such sophisticated technologies and weapons, they feel they are safe with the notion that they can successfully combat any threat that nature has in store for them, for they are the dominant species on the planet. In the midst of the conceived complexity of their society, they would not remotely believe that nature is undeniably their true overlord. Underneath all of their governments, laws, rituals, marriages, and grand stadiums, humans are still only savages in a world that is hard-pressed to give a damn about them.

Every now and then, an earthquake would rock the Cordilleran mountains. And each time one occurred, Julian would not be able to stop himself from thinking about what malevolent intelligence slumbered in the ground beneath his beloved city, and how big it must have gotten since he last encountered it a lifetime ago.


End file.
